The End of the Road
by nrynmrth
Summary: He could feel the blood drenching his fingers as he pressed them to his stomach in vain. Red, they were, when he pulled them away, crimson like Jack's hair never was (hers was the color of the fire that burned her body to ash). Red like the blood he had spilled in the last six years since he had become a spy. Red, like death, for Alex Rider was dying. WARNING: Deathfic. Oneshot.


A/N: A story in tribute to a friend of a friend (a good friend of several good friends, rather) who passed away on 9/12/15, about two weeks ago, may he rest in peace. I hope you like it!  
I also realized that I haven't been putting a disclaimer on my other fics (which you should definitely go read after you finish this), so here it is: I am most definitely not Anthony Horowitz, to whom most of what you recognize belongs (some parts of it, like the ending line, are borrowed from other sources or authors whose names I cannot remember), including but not limited to Alex Rider. And that is all I shall say on the subject.

The world was ending—well, for him, at least. He could feel the blood drenching his fingers as he pressed them to his stomach in vain.

Red, they were, when he pulled them away, crimson like Jack's hair never was (hers was the color of the fire that burned her body to ash).

Red like the blood he had spilled in the last six years since he had become a spy.

Red like the sunrise that stained the horizon to the left of him, painting him a deep cherry color.

Red like death, for Alex Rider was dying.

He gave a weak chuckle, clasping a hand to his midsection as he staggered to his feet. A step forward, and then another—each was a greater effort than the last. His right hand (the one not currently holding his insides together) went to his pocket, drawing out a mobile phone. His bloody fingers were slippery as he keyed in a number more familiar to him than his own name (after all, he had a new one every month). He raised the phone to his ear, a wry half-smile twisting his lips.

' _Hello, you've reached the Royal and General Bank. How may I help you?'_

The smile grew as he rasped the words.

"This is Rider—put Jones on."

' _At once, sir.'_ The woman's voice had changed the moment she heard his surname—it carried an edge of respect, and the slight pity that he had grown accustomed to. He was broken from his thoughts when the worried voice of his superior met his ear:

' _Alex?'_

"Tulip," he greeted, his voice hoarse.

' _Alex! Are you all right?'_

Alex gave a humorless laugh.

"Given the circumstances…I suppose I am."

' _Give a straight answer for once in your life, Rider! Status report?'_

"Fine, Jones, keep your hair on. No bullets, this time, but I'm currently bleeding to death in the middle of nowhere. Satisfied?"

A shocked gasp was heard on the other end of the line, before—

' _Hold on, Alex. We're coming—I'll have Smithers trace your mobile. Don't you dare die on me, Rider…'_

A slight chuckle wracked his body. "A bit late for that, Tulip…" He paused, grimacing. When Alex spoke again, his voice was weaker, and the pain was evident in his tone. "You won't get here in time, and you know it."

' _Alex…'_

"No, Jones," he interrupted her. "Listen to me, because I don't have much time left. And put me on speaker—K-Unit should hear this too, and Ben, of course."

Jones didn't even bother to ask how the young man knew who was in the room with her (he wasn't her best agent for nothing), simply complying with his wishes.

' _Yes, Alex? They're here—Agent Daniels, Wolf, Snake, Eagle, and Tiger.'_

"Thank you, Tulip." He coughed, once, blood staining his mouth. "K-Unit—over the past six years since I met you for the first time, I've grown to know you, and, dare I say it? Maybe even like you a little. Yes, even you, Tiger, once you joined us. I want you to know that I could not have chosen a better team—a better family. The day you welcomed me into your unit was one of the happiest days of my life. For that, I thank you. Ben—you are my partner, the one who has seen most of the horrors that make up my past and present, and the only one who never left. Now I am the one leaving you…thank you, Ben, my brother in all but blood. And Tulip…"

' _Alex, I—'_ She broke off, sniffling slightly.

"Are you crying over me, Jones?" Incredulity colored his words.

' _Of course I'm bloody well crying over you, Rider! What the hell did you expect? I've known you for nearly six years…'_

"Never thought I'd see the day…" Alex's voice, though attempting disbelief, was weary. "Anyway, Jones…If someone had told me, six years ago, that I would be saying this, I'd have thought they were absolutely bonkers, but it has been a pleasure working for you, Tulip. And I cannot honestly say that, even after…all that happened…I regret very much at all."

Alex somehow managed to remain on his feet, though black spots were beginning to appear in his vision.

"To all of you…what else can I say but goodbye? Our paths, once entwined, shall go their separate ways until I see you again in the Forgiving Kingdom…Remember me."

And with those words, Alex Rider turned to face the rising sun, the many-colored hues bathing him in light and innocence. He stood tall, tilted his head appraisingly, and winked cheerfully, once, before closing his eyes and slipping into the world from which there was no return. His final breath ghosted out into the thin morning air, and his eyes fluttered shut.

On the other end of the telephone still held in his hand, five men and one woman staring blankly at the device. Silently, they bade goodbye to the boy—no, to the man—who had shone so brightly in their lives, who had changed them all for the better, though he was by no means a saint. No, Alex Rider was most definitely human, flawed, and imperfect—for if he had been a saint, God would never have allowed him to come down to Earth.

 _Mirror, mirror, on the wall, this is how the mighty fall…not with a bang, but with a whimper._


End file.
